Peridan
by CooperGirlHH
Summary: "I take it, then, that you don't know there is a vacancy for the position of head of the royal guard at Cair Paravel?" My mouth dropped open. Narnia? ... Just how did Peridan get to be High King Peter and his siblings' most trusted friend and advisor? One-shot. Reviews welcome!


**Peridan**

 **Summary:** Just how did Peridan get to be High King Peter and his siblings' most trusted friend and advisor?

 **Author's Notes:** I took the liberty of giving Peridan a little bit of a background story. If I remember it correctly, there's very little we know about him ... I hope you'll enjoy this! (Let me know ...)

 _ **Realismandromance**_ has beta-ed this for me! Great job - thanks a lot!

XXX

Winter had just begun, and Anvard was covered in a light layer of snow. I had always loved Anvard in winter; there was something peaceful about it. There were no such things as extreme weather conditions like those I knew from western Archenland, where I had grown up. No, here the snow just dropped down on the castle in thick, gentle flakes, colouring the scenery beautifully white.

As every year, Anvard was preparing itself for the great pre-Christmas banquet that King Lune loved to hold, attended only by his closest family and friends. I was expecting to be on duty, as I had always been when the feast had been held. This time, however, I was painfully aware that this could very well be my last time present for this special occasion; I had learned everything that I could learn. My education at King Lune's court was finished.

The problem was, I didn't have anywhere to go yet. King Lune had repeated often enough that he would always have a place for me to serve at Anvard – and I was more than grateful for that. But I wasn't going to have the rank he would have liked to offer me, not for a while yet. He had always said that I was made for command. So had Ferr, my supervisor and tutor.

Ferr himself was only a few years older than I; he was expected to hold command over King Lune's royal guard at least for another decade, probably even more than that. There was no room for another commander. Of course, I could – and probably would – take the offer to be his second. It was the best position I would find in all Archenland for a while yet; as the fourth out of four brothers, I wasn't expecting to inherit anything from my own family but their good reputation.

The Archenland army wasn't an option, either. There were many capable soldiers in the line of command before me, and I was trained to be close by my master's side as protector and advisor, not to throw myself into an enemy's sword on the battlefield.

It was the day before the feast when King Lune summoned me to his council chamber. He was perched at the end of his long wooden table, a cup of wine in front of him, along with a stack of papers. A plate holding fruit and sweets sat within reach, and by the looks, it had been of good use several times already.

The king looked up at me when I stuck my head in, and a warm smile lit up his face. His eyes twinkled kindly. "Peridan, my lad, come on in!" He waved his thick arm for me to come closer, which I couldn't refuse.

"You asked for me, Sire?"

"So I did," he said, and with a friendly gesture, he invited me to sit with him. "I would like you to know that you will not be on duty tomorrow night. Instead, you shall attend the banquet and feast with us."

I had not expected this, and my expression must have shown my surprise. "Sire?"

His smile turned into a grin. "There is someone I would like you to become acquainted with."

Now I was even more puzzled, and try as I might, I couldn't think of whom he was hinting.

"Can't you guess who I am talking about?" he asked, reading the confusion from my face.

I gave a small shake of my head.

"Well … I take it, then, that you don't know there is a vacancy for the position of head of the royal guard at Cair Paravel?"

"Cair Paravel?" My mouth dropped open.

 _Narnia?_

I was too perplexed to do or say anything, and merely blinked once or twice. My reaction resulted in deep, roaring laughter from my king. "You don't seem very enthusiastic, lad. Do not say you are not interested."

"I ... I don't know..."

Shaking his head, King Lune made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Well, no need to worry too much; for an Archenlander Narnia might seem peculiar at first sight, but I shall be damned if I let you miss this opportunity. Therefore, you will celebrate with us tomorrow, and I will place you right beside High King Peter himself. You two will get along famously, I am sure of that."

Nodding slowly, I knew I was dismissed. He had made his mind up, and while I was leaving the chamber I vowed that I was not going to disappoint my king. In any case, I was not going to miss the opportunity to sit at a table and feast with High King Peter of Narnia and his royal siblings.

Since the Four had attended the banquet every year since their coronation seven years ago, I had seen them before, though usually just from afar. All the previous years, I had been on duty, watching guests walk in and out the banquet hall – no more, no less. However, one year ago, I had got as close as I thought I would ever get to High King Peter when I received the honour of being picked for a sparring match with his brother on the morning just before the celebrations. It had been the very year King Peter had nearly died in the care of King Lune's healers, wounded in a battle he had fought in favour of my King. (Like every Archenlander, I just had to love him simply for that already.)

Sparring with the Just King had been a very thrilling affair. At sixteen and four years younger than I, King Edmund had been about my height, maybe even a little smaller, but he had surprised me with his skill, and I had very nearly lost that match. I was quite sure that, in another year or two, Narnia's Just King might be a better swordsman than I was, and I was good.

I didn't get the opportunity to see for myself the skill the elder King of Narnia possessed. What I could see, though, was that he was gifted with an impressive height and build; almost all of our men (including myself) had to look up if they wanted to look him in the eyes. Of course, I should mention that I couldn't and wouldn't complain, after all. Nature had been kind to me, too; I was tall enough (for an Archenlander, anyway), and with my light blonde hair and fair skin, I attracted many glances from court ladies and female servants alike.

But not when standing next to High King Peter, I was reminded the very next day, as we greeted each other and sat side by side at the table. Broad-shouldered and long-limbed, Narnia's High King represented elegance as much as he represented strength. He easily held the attention of pretty much every female in the room. According to my knowledge, he was a year younger than I, but I felt much older and very young at the same time, in comparison to him.

The tables were overloaded with King Lune's favourite dainties, and while we ate, I got deep into conversation with both of Narnia's kings; King Lune had placed me right between them.

I did not find them very much alike. While High King Peter was jovial and even-tempered, outspoken even about his supposed flaws, his younger brother seemed quieter and graver, but then his wit surprised me; he could deliver the most amusing comments to what the elder king said, and his remarks came in such a dry, unconcerned tone that he had me in tears with laughter more than once; it was only seeing how stern the High King would look at him that made me stop laughing, at least until I saw the twinkle in King Peter's eyes.

We feasted grandly. I didn't think I had ever eaten so much in one sitting before, not even as a youth during my most rapid growth spurts. The Four were very kind to me. Unexpectedly, King Peter even entertained me with a very accurate memory of the sparring match I had had with King Edmund the year before, and he made no secret of the fact that my skill had impressed him.

He asked me many things concerning my training, my qualifications and also my parentage. I told him that I was the youngest of four brothers, my father was a count in western Archenland, and our area was well known for mining and forging; Archenland's finest weapons were produced at my father's court (it even housed and employed a small number of sullen but diligent dwarfs). But with so many brothers in the line of succession before me, I had little future there. King Lune had offered me a military education at his court as a favour to my father, and so I had joined the royal guard at the age of fourteen.

"You do know how to make use of a sword, Peridan," King Peter said approvingly, not for the first time that evening, after I told him everything about the training I had received from Ferr.

"Thank you, sire," I replied, trying unsuccessfully to hide a proud smile.

It made the king laugh a warm, rich kind of laugh, just like that of King Lune, although not as deep. "I bet you know as well as I do why you've been placed here next to us this very evening."

He was looking me up and down closely now, his brows wrinkled in silent consideration. I felt scrutinised. But before he let slip what he thought of Lune's idea, King Peter changed the subject. His interest now concentrated on things that had nothing to do with anything military. Instead, he asked me if I liked the food, whether I could dance and which was my favourite instrument in music. Further, he inquired about my reading and writing abilities and if I was educated in Narnian and Archenlander politics and history – which, of course, I was.

I was just about recite my knowledge on Helen and Frank, Narnia's glorious first rulers, when King Peter bent over and spoke in a low voice into my ear, "No need to prove anything ... go and dance with my sister Lucy instead. She's been trying to catch your attention, and I shall be in trouble if I deter you any further."

I turned my head to find Queen Lucy smiling at me gaily. She was, as I soon learned, the sweetest person one could ever know. Her smile was open and genuine, and she was as interested in me and my story as King Peter. We danced for hours. Gladly, I realised right at the beginning that her interest in me was not of any romantic nature. I was relieved about that, seeing as she was too young for such thoughts in my eyes – she was, after all, still a girl, really.

The evening proceeded, and I even had a dance and a friendly conversation with Queen Susan. But after hours of constantly trying to get my feet in the right rhythm (swordfight came much more naturally to me) I began feeling tired.

Finally, the queens excused themselves and retired for the night. Exhausted, I dropped down at the table where I had sat before. Only one person occupied it now; High King Peter himself was reclining in his chair, long legs crossed casually at the ankles. His eyes were half closed, and I wondered if he were simply too tired to get to his chambers in his own. Just in case, I waved at a servant, who came hurrying over.

I opened my mouth, but the king was faster. He sat up straight, unexpectedly alert, and grinned at me, pushing both our cups at the servant and asking for a refill of wine.

"But, Majesty ... High King Peter ... haven't we had enough? Look around, the feast is almost over ... most guests have retired."

"All the more wine for us," replied the king, and raised his now full cup at me. "And I might as well say this already: From now on, between the two of us, I'll just be Peter to you."

Not quite as reluctant as I had felt a minute before, I saluted to him and began sipping my wine. It was enjoyable, but I still found it unreasonable to consume more of it that night than I already had. No sooner had I drained the cup than Peter waved the servant over for yet another refill. He wouldn't accept me letting him drink alone, of course, and so I found myself joining him for a second and even a third refill.

With a sigh, Peter finally set his cup down for good. "Don't you think I drink this much on a regular basis," he said, pointing a stern forefinger at me. He sounded a little slurred, yet not nearly as much as one should have after all the wine. Then he broke into a boyish grin, probably triggered by the look on my face. "Honestly now, Peridan, you mustn't get any wrong ideas; we work as hard as anywhere else in Narnia. But" – he rubbed his eyes – "you know, even a king needs a drink with a friend from time to time to ease his mind."

"But Sire …" He frowned at me, and I corrected myself instantly, "… Peter ... you hardly know me."

"But I like you, Peridan. You're a good man, and I very much enjoy telling you that if you're genuinely interested, the position as head of the royal guard at Cair Paravel is yours. If you accept, you can travel with us on the day we ride back."

I was awed. High King Peter had just made me head of his royal guard (if I accepted, of course). And – what was more – he had called me a friend.

The king himself was unaffected by my awe; I wasn't even sure if he was aware of it. There was some apple crumble left on the table from dessert, smelling deliciously of cinnamon and fruit. It held the High King's attention, and he helped himself to a large piece. Then he looked back at me, eyebrows raised. "Do we have an agreement?" he asked.

I nodded again, and he grinned from ear to ear. "Perfect." And before I could say anything, he had filled another plate with apple crumble for me. I wasn't hungry, but the smell was just too tempting. We both ate, and when we were done, we helped ourselves to another piece each. Peter even had our cups refilled yet again with some sweet wine.

I was beginning to wonder if I would get sick. Peter, however, still seemed rather unconcerned. He finished his wine and then leaned back, running a hand over his face and through his golden-blond hair, finally beginning to look a little tired. Still, he was more alert than anyone should have been after that amount of food – and wine. "What a feast ..." He sighed.

"We'll be ill in the morning, that's for sure," I said.

The High King let out an amused snort. "Look out the window, Peridan," he said, finger pointing towards the high windows above our heads. "It _is_ the morning already."

"Lion's mane," I exclaimed. "Right you are."

It wasn't very bright outside yet – there was only a faint light of dawn. But I was very glad that I didn't have to be on duty that day, either. I might have emptied my stomach contents right at Ferr's feet. As it was, I could instead sleep as long as I wanted (and hope that any sickness would have subsided by the time I woke).

It took me a little while to get back to my chamber; I had some trouble walking straight.

 _I'm going to Narnia,_ was the last thought on my clouded mind before I fell into a deep sleep that morning.

XXX

 **A/N:** Lucky Peridan, eh?

Let me know what you think!


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